Fictober, Prompt 3 – “I’ve waited for this.”

Original fiction.

Warnings: horror, monster, vampire, implied blood-drinking, implied violent death.

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I held very still.

The man standing across the room did not smile, but the corners of his eyes tightened in satisfaction. “As I suspected,” he murmured, and stepped forward, careful to keep his holy symbol in front of him.

I edged back, lips curling involuntarily at the sight of it. Unfortunately, this gave him a glimpse of fang, which elicited another quick nod from him. He stepped forward more confidently this time, making sure that the rope held in his other hand was clearly visible to me as well.

The rope that trailed up to the boards covering the large window high above, which I could now tell were not fastened as securely as they had seemed at first.

It was a well-set trap, I had to acknowledge, if only in my own mind. He had driven me to this place cleverly, methodically, and there was nowhere in this particular room that would be free of sunlight if he pulled those boards, and we both knew it.

I continued to back up anyway, slowly, reluctantly, until I felt my back touch the far wall.

He paced me, the rope growing more taut with every step, until the boards overhead creaked and the tiniest sliver of sunlight broke through.

I flinched against the wall, just a little.

“You have terrorized the innocent for too long, vampire,” he said, halting his steps before the rope pulled any more, holy symbol still held as a barrier between us. “You will do so no more.”

I snarled wordlessly, and another not-smile of satisfaction in return.

“I’ve waited for this,” he said calmly, and yanked the boards over the window free.

Sunlight broke over me, hot and bright.

Confusion broke over his face, when I did not immediately burst into flames.

“And I’ve waited for this,” I told him, allowing myself a fanged grin before I lunged for him, sweeping his holy symbol aside with ease.

“How?” he choked out, terrified, as my hand (now clawed and violet-skinned) closed around his throat.

“You see what you expect to see, human,” I told him, “but demons are not vampires, no matter how we choose to appear.” It had been easy enough to play the part of a blood-drinker, even if that was not how my kind usually sustained ourselves, and entertaining to see how well I could mislead my human pursuers.

“Here,” I said, shifting my appearance back to that of the vampire I had seemed to be moments ago. “Let me show you!”

Blood was not quite so fulfilling as other things, I had come to know, but as a delicacy here and there it appealed. My current sample did not disappoint.